


venice, vedi, vici

by Ness09



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Childhood Friends, Eddie is on the verge of murdering Richie a dozen times, Friends to Lovers, M/M, The other losers are only mentioned, a little bit of enemies to friends to lovers in the beginning, they get a lot drunk and fly to venice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2020-10-17 08:15:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20617841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ness09/pseuds/Ness09
Summary: Eddie gets dumped right before his wedding and is faced with cancelling the whole thing while mending his broken heart, only to find out the honeymoon is non-refundable. Could it get any worse?It can when your annoying, loud-mouthed friend from high school who you’ve fallen out with years ago, suddenly turns up at your doorstep and decides to go on said honeymoon with you





	venice, vedi, vici

The sound of the doorbell cuts through his alternating bouts of wallowing in self-pity and angrily destroying every little thing Marcus has left behind. Who could that be? He hadn’t ordered the XXL pineapple pizza just because he could now that Marcus wouldn’t complain about how pineapple didn’t go on pizza, because Eddie had reminded himself that he didn’t even like pineapple pizza that much, he’d just enjoyed having that pointless discussion with Marcus over and over again.

But who could it be? Ben and Bev were visiting his mother in Florida and probably on their flight back right now, he’s just gotten off the phone with Bill and Mike not even an hour ago, who'd been on the road with terrible reception, and he hasn’t gotten around to calling Stan yet. So who?

Maybe Marcus has come back and realized his big mistake. He hates how hopeful that thought makes him. As if he could take him back now. Who even breaks up with their fiancé a day before the wedding, and then has the nerve to blame it on him? Fucking asshole!

Wiping the tears from his heated cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater, he jumps up and reaches the door in two long strides. He takes a deep breath, readying himself to yell all the profanities at Marcus that he hasn’t before, too shocked that this was really happening.

He throws the door open, the words “How dare you come back here, you fucking piece of shit!” already on his lips, when his mouth just stops working and he gapes at the man in front of him.

“Eddie Spaghetti!”

“Richie?”

He’s too dumbfounded to remember that he’s mad at him, too confused to stop this tall, disaster of a human being from entering his apartment, and then he just stands there in his living room the brightest smile on his face.

“What… What are you doing here, Richie?”

It’s been a year since he’s last seen him, three years since the last time they were alone together. Is this just the worst timing, or…?

Richie doesn’t answer, he just turns slowly taking in the whole mess Eddie has made of his apartment, then whistles through his teeth. “Love what you’ve done with the place, Eds.”

Normally Eddie would be embarrassed by the almost empty bottle of wine, the used tissues, the shards of glass from thrown picture frames, the ripped-up sweater Marcus had left behind, but he’s too angry. Who does Richie think he is? To just walk in here and pretend like nothing ever happened between them, as if he didn’t completely give up on their friendship.

“What the fuck, Richie?”, he snaps. “What do you want?”

Richie shrugs. “A little birdie told me that you got dumped and you might need cheering up.”  
It’s only now that Richie places it next to the couch, that Eddie notices the big duffel bag he’s carrying, but forgets to ask about it, when Richie sits down and places his feet on the coffee table, right where he left the engagement ring.

Eddie pushes them away and grabs the ring, almost puts it back on his finger, then rethinks and slides it in his pocket. “And you’re the right one for the job? I think not.”

“Oh, don’t be like that, Eds. Remember all the chucks we had? Good times.”

“I can’t believe you. You don’t talk to me for three years and now you just show up? How do you even…” He doesn’t need to finish his question. There is only one way Richie can have found out about him and Marcus. “Fucking Bill!”

The grin finally leaves Richie’s face. “It’s only been one.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t count if you’re forced to hang out with me because we have the same friends, dipshit. And don’t think I don’t know you bailed every time you knew I would be there.”

“And Marcus.”

Eddies shakes his head. Not this again. Richie has never liked Marcus, and at first Eddie hadn’t minded, thinking he just needed to get to know him, but Richie had never shown any effort. He’d made so many jokes at Marcus’ expense, had called him not good enough for Eddie and an asshole and at some point it had just been easier to keep the two of them apart, but then Richie had started to come up with stupid excuses to not meet up with Eddie at all and Eddie had stopped asking. And that leaves them here.

“Don’t start again.”

“What?”, Richie asks. “I was right, wasn’t I? He is a total douchebag! He broke up with you the day before the weeding, Eddie!”

“Thanks for the reminder, asshole. I’d almost forgotten.”

The stupid wedding. Eddie had thought they could start over, that the wedding could be his and Richie’s olive branch, to show him Marcus wasn’t the asshole Richie insisted he was and tell him that Eddie still wanted him in his life even after all the shit he pulled. He should never have sent him an invitation.

Richie throws his hands up. “Look, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you got d-…” Eddie is ready to throw the nearest thing at his head which just so happens to be the wine bottle on the table, but Richie seems to sense this and corrects himself: “you and Marcus didn’t work out, and I’m sorry for being such a shitty friend, but with everyone else out of town, I’m the only one you’ve got.”

“Then I’d rather have no one, thanks.”

Now he grabs the bottle after all and empties it with one deep gulp. If he didn’t feel bad about himself before, he definitely deserves all the pity in the world right now. Cancelling the wedding was bad enough without having Richie here.

Richie puts his feet back on the table. “That’s not up to you, babe. I promised Big Bill and Mikey that I would make sure you don’t drown yourself or something.”

“I’ll just kill you first”, he mutters as he shuffles into the kitchen, sets the empty bottle on the counter and grabs another one from the wine cooler. Thank fuck, Marcus always kept that thing stocked, because Eddie’s new plan for the night is to drown himself in wine and if he never wakes up again, that’s just fine too.

“Have you called the guests and told them the wedding is off?”, Richie shouts from the living room and Eddie puts the wine glass back into the cupboard, abandoning all pretense that he hasn’t hit rock bottom and puts the bottle to his lips, drinking a third of it in greedy gulps.

It’s not the most dignified position, Richie finds him in, when he eventually wanders into the kitchen. Eddie is painfully aware he’s looking like a toddler, sitting on the floor, sucking on the wine like a baby bottle. He doesn’t have the energy to care.

“Jeez, Eddie, maybe slow down a bit.”

Eddie glares at him. Who’s he to tell him what to do? He wants to move away when Richie sits down next to him, his legs too long to be stretched between the counter and the kitchen island. Stupid long legs. Eddie remembers when Richie had hit his growth spurt and those stupid longs legs had been everything he could think of for weeks. Stupid.

“Okay, do what you want”, Richie says, when he doesn’t succeed in wrestling the wine bottle out of Eddie’s grip. “but how about sharing with me? Drinking alone is so depressing.”

“Your face is depressing!”

“Believe me, I know. Compared to the rest of the losers, I’ve gotten the short end of the stick. Can you believe how hot Haystack is? And Stan? That uptight little shit got hot, and Bill… Well Bill was always kind of hot, and Bev of course. It’s just not fair I get stuck with this.”

“Beep Beep”, Eddie says. He isn’t drunk enough for Richie’s rambling, and he’s too mad at him to tell him he’s wrong. Not about their friends, they are hot, he’s right about that, but about himself. Richie had always been beautiful to Eddie even when nobody else thought so.

To chase those thoughts away, he leans forward and gets another bottle out of the cooler for Richie. “Knock yourself out, Trashmouth.”

Richie stands up to get the opener from the counter and Eddie looks up those legs, long long legs that go on forever. Richie is probably a half-giant. Like a sexy Hagrid. Maybe he should grow a beard, maybe that would help with the depressing face.

“Do you have a list?”

A list? He has all kinds of lists. A bucket list. A list of ways to kill Marcus. List of ways to kill Richie. Ways to kill himself.

“A guest list.”

Oh… yeah, he has one of those too. He’d taken one look at it earlier and burst into tears.

“On the table in there.”

A moment later Richie is back with the bottle in one hand and the phone and the cursed list in the other. Eddie just glances at it and goes back to nursing his own bottle. He can’t deal with this now. He’ll probably never be able to deal with this.

Richie looks over the list and sighs. “You really had to go all out, didn’t you? What happened to a nice private reception? There’s at least 200 people on this list.”

Eddie shrugs. Marcus always said you only got married once, might as well make it count. Since he was paying, Eddie didn’t want to argue with that. If he was going to pay, why is it now on Eddie to clean all of this up? He fucking hates Marcus.

“I figure we make this more fun.”

Eddie is afraid to ask, but he does it anyway. “How is this going to be fun?”

“We make a drinking game out of it. One sip for every time they call Marcus a son of a bitch. Two sips for…”

“I don’t need a game to drink.” To underline his words, he puts the bottle to his lips again. It doesn’t even taste like wine anymore, it tastes like nothing and it makes him feel nothing. That’s why he loves wine. At least with wine you know what you get. Wine is reliable. Wine won’t suddenly pack their bag and leave him and not even really explain. Wine won’t accuse him of not loving them. He really loves wine.

“Alright, then I’ll find another way to make this fun for me. You just sit there and drink”, Richie says, takes a big gulp from his bottle and dials the first number. “Hello, I’m calling because of the Kaspbrak and Hobbs wedding. Yes, wonderful couple, yes. Turns out one of the grooms has another family he’s been hiding down in Texas, so you certainly understand Mr Kaspbrak can’t go through with marrying him. I know, it was a big shock to all of us. Yes, poor Eddie.”

Richie beams at him, but Eddie is too tired to have any kind of reaction. For all he knows Marcus may have a secret family in Texas.

“On to the next. Dear old Mrs K. I haven’t talked to her in forever.”

“Richie…”

“Don’t worry, Eds. I’ll let her down gently.”

His mother would probably be glad that the wedding fell through. He’d only invited her to be nice and hadn’t expected her to actually come. She’d never been okay with him being gay. Maybe she’d planned on dragging him away and back to Derry before he could say ‘I do’.

“Mrs K!”, Richie shouted. “It’s me, Richie Tozier. You know, Eddie’s best friend.”

Eddie snorts at that. Best friends don’t turn their back on a friendship without an explanation. Best friends support each other’s decisions.

“Yes, yes, it’s been a long time. I’ve missed you too, Mrs K. Anyway, I’m calling because of the wedding. There’s been a couple of changes. Marcus is out of the picture, and I’m taking Eddie to Vegas to elope. Sorry, you can’t be there. Bye.”

“Don’t tell people that.”

“What?”

“That it’s my fault the wedding is off. Can’t you just be normal for once? Be helpful?” Eddie grabs for the list, but Richie holds it over his head and out of his reach. “Just let me do it.”

“No!”

“You don’t… You don’t owe me anything, Richie. Just leave!”

Richie sighs and for a moment, Eddie thinks he’s going to be serious, and that he’ll finally see that he isn’t needed here.

“Not a chance”, he says. “I might not be a good wedding planner, but I am fantastic at tearing them down. So you just sit there and look pretty and let me handle this.”

“I really don’t think that’s a good idea.”

But it is easier to sit and drink than have to explain to the 200 people Marcus invited why there would be no wedding. He doesn’t trust himself to not tell everyone what a huge dick he is either, so maybe it’s better Richie does that. At least he has somebody to blame then.

To his surprise, Richie doesn’t make up anymore stories as he calls the rest of the people on the list. He doesn’t even make a lot of jokes, and listening to his soft voice, makes Eddie feel a little less miserable, a little less alone.

* * *

He doesn’t know what’s worse, his head pounding like someone woke him up by taking a sledgehammer to it, the taste of death in his mouth or that he will for sure throw up all over himself if he so much as moves. In short, he’s miserable all over and would very much have preferred never to wake up again. His plan to drown himself in wine had backfired.

How long he lies there like that, he doesn’t know. Time is a concept that doesn’t apply to him anymore. Maybe if he just keeps still long enough, he’ll turn into air, or a stone, or just die. He’d be fine with all of these options.

Too bad he’s not alone. Oh how he wishes Richie turning up at his door was just a wine-induced hallucinations, but no chance. He hears someone else roaming the apartment, and would tell himself it’s just Marcus, but Marcus would never get out of bed before Eddie and… despite his massive hangover he still very much remembers Marcus breaking up with him.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills his bedroom, accompanied by that very specific smell Eddie would be able to match with Richie any time, and the mattress dips and there’s fingers softly carding through his hair. It’s enough to make anyone cry, but Eddie reminds himself that this is not Richie his best friend, but Richie Traitor Tozier who has come back into his life to torture him, so he buries his face in the pillow until he’s sure the tears won’t fall.

“Good morning”, Richie hums.

“It’s not”, Eddie mutters, his voice barely audible with his face pressed into the pillow.

“Well, no. It’s almost 3pm, but you have to get up at some point.”

“I’m never leaving this bed again.”

“So you don’t want the coffee?”

He pauses for a moment, then rolls over and grabs the cup out of Richie’s hand, spilling some of the hot liquid down his hand and onto the sheets. He doesn’t care. Doesn’t care he’s burning his lips and tongue and throat as he drinks. Richie looks like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t when Eddie continues to drink the too hot coffee and stares him down.

He’s wearing one of Eddie’s shirts and he has bare feet and Eddie hates how at home he looks here. Richie has never been in this apartment before and he already looks like he lives here.

“You should get up though”, Richie says. “You still need to shower and pack your stuff, and maybe eat something. I know you hate airplane food.”

How long has he been asleep? Or has he travelled to a different dimension?

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Richie raises an eyebrow. “The plane? To Europe?”

Europe? The honeymoon? Eddie’s eyes go wide, and he feels the cup slipping from his hands, staining the sheets even more. What the hell did they get up to last night? He tries desperately to remember, but all that comes to mind is wine. Lots and lots of wine and Richie calling his mom. After that, nothing.

“I’m not going to fucking Europe with you!”

He stresses the last word and enjoys the flicker of hurt in Richie’s eyes. He’s great at hiding it, but Eddie has always been good at seeing behind Richie’s façade, he’s always been able to read him.

As quick as it came, it’s gone and hidden expertly behind an eyeroll and a grin. “You don’t remember, do you? Figures.”

“Fill me in, Richard.”

Richie takes the empty coffee cup and sets it down on the bedside table. “I managed to cancel everything except the cake and the honeymoon. You weren’t too upset about it last night, said M-… you-know-who paid for everything anyway.”

It starts as a snort, turns into a giggle and finally Eddie is rolling in his bed with laughter. It makes his head hurt like a bitch and the liquid contents of his stomach rise dangerously, but he can’t help himself.

“You-know-who?”, he gasps eventually. “He isn’t a racist serial killer. You can say his name.”

Richie purses his lips, but it does nothing to hide the smile hiding in the corners of his mouth. Eddie is familiar with that particular smile. It’s one he was desperate to earn when they were teenagers, one he’d only got to see when they were alone. He hates that smile now.

“Anyway”, Richie says. “You said I should send the cake to Stan and Patty, thought it was the fucking funniest prank ever. And the honeymoon… Well, since it’s already paid for and you couldn’t get a refund, I suggested it would be good for you to get out and see something that wouldn’t remind you of Marcus. And you…”

“I told you to change the tickets, didn’t I? I said you should come with.”

Richie nods, and Eddie has to fight the urge to strangle him. And what? He just did it? Didn’t think that maybe that was a bad idea? Eddie was so drunk last night, he shouldn’t have been allowed to make decisions like this.

“Looks like everything worked out perfectly for you, didn’t it? You just show up here after three years of nothing and get yourself a free trip to Europe.”

“I liked you better when you were drunk.”

“Yeah, I liked you better when you were gone.”

He doesn’t look at Richie when he swings his legs out of bed and tries to walk to the bathroom without falling because the stupid room won’t stop spinning. He’s going to take a shower and then he’ll call Bill and shout at him for sending Richie here, and that should give Richie enough time to get the fuck out and never come back. Yes, he wanted Richie to come to the wedding and start over, but there was no wedding and he has enough problems without having to deal with Richie right now. Maybe it’s too late for them. Maybe it’s better if they aren’t friends. Richie must’ve had his reasons for leaving and he is only here now because Bill told him too, because he feels bad for Eddie. He doesn’t need a pity friend.

Richie is not gone, when Eddie emerges freshly showered and dressed. He’s in the kitchen making eggs and toast.

“You’re still here”, Eddie says, grabs a glass of water and leans against the counter.

“Told you, I wouldn’t go anywhere.”

“Shame. You’re so good at that.”

“Fucks sake, Eds! How long are you going to hold that over my head?”

Forever, probably. He doesn’t think he can forgive Richie for making him feel like that, like he didn’t matter, like he wasn’t worth holding onto. Not when Richie had meant everything to him. He could’ve never just walked away from Richie. Maybe he should be glad. Losing Richie had freed him, in a way. He’d been free to live his life without having Richie on his mind all the time.

He doesn’t put any of that into words. He doesn’t owe Richie an explanation and he won’t give him the satisfaction that he hurt him. “I’m still not going to Europe with you.”

Neither of them says anything while Richie finishes the eggs, then puts them on two plates and carries them over to the table. It’s only when he sits down and jerks his head at the chair opposite him that Eddie lets go of his stubbornness and follows him.

“The tickets are booked”, Richie says. “The hotels are booked. You need a break from all this, and I promise you it’ll be fun. Remember when we were little? We used to talk about taking a trip together all the time.”

“How come you are free to go to Europe? Is your life so fucking boring?”

Last he heard Richie was an up and coming stand-up comedian. Last he heard, he wasn’t very funny. That career probably crashed and burned.

“You’re in luck, Eddie Spaghetti. I have some time off.”

“Off from what?”

“Off to write a new show. I guess Europe will give me plenty of inspiration.”

Guess he was still doing it. What a shame. If he had a stable 9-5 job, he wouldn’t have been able to come. On the other hand, Richie was right. The trip was already paid for and unlike the wedding, Eddie had paid for most of it, he should at least get something out of all that money. And what would he even do in Europe by himself?

“Why do you even want to come?”

“Like you said, it’s a free trip.”

* * *

He regrets saying yes. He regrets it all the way to the airport, regrets it when they check their bags, regrets it when they go through the security check, and regrets it the most when they finally board and the flight attendant shows them to their seats and congratulates them on their wedding.

Richie throws an arm around him and brings their faces so close together that their cheeks touch. “Thank you! Isn’t he the cutest? I couldn’t wait to put a ring on it.”

The flight attendant smiles, gives them two glasses of champagne and leaves. Eddie downs his. “I’m not even wearing a fucking ring!”

“I can buy you one when we get to Rome.”

“Venice! We’re going to fucking Venice, you idiot. It says so on your ticket.”

“I thought we were going to all the capitals.”

Eddie shrinks in his seat. He remembers going to travel agency and booking this whole trip, remembers how happy he was when he got back, remembers crawling into Marcus’ lap and showing him the brochures. “Capitals of love.”

“Oh.”

Suddenly he doesn’t feel so good. He can’t breathe and the seatbelt is too tight, but his fingers are shaking so much he can’t open it. He can’t breathe. He needs his inhaler. He hasn’t needed it in years, has probably never really needed it, but he needs it now. He can’t breathe.

“Eds! Eddie!”

Someone pulls his hands away from his seatbelt, then grabs his face, and he is forced to look at Richie, but he still can’t breathe. He needs to get off the fucking plane. He can’t do this.

“Eddie, just look at me.” Eddie hates him so much. Hates that stupid soft voice, hates the concern in his eyes, hates how blue they are, how pretty. “Come on, buddy, just breathe with me. It’ll be fine.”

He hates that it works, hates that Richie makes him feel calm. He hates him.

“We’re not going to do any of the touristy shit, okay”, Richie says, and he’s back to smiling. “Fuck the gondolas, we’re getting a motorboat. We’re going to buy the ugliest masks we can find. We’ll find the most expensive pizza.”

“It’ll probably taste like shit.”

Richie laughs. “Yeah, it definitely will. My treat though.”

“It better be, dipshit”, Eddie says and for the first time he doesn’t actually mean it, for the first time it’s like before. “I’m treating you to a whole vacation.”

“You’re so good to me, Eduardo. You really know how to treat a man.”

It’s only now that he realizes Richie is still holding his face and he quickly draws back. He gets one of his sleeping pills from his back and downs it with Richie’s champagne.

“Hey!”

* * *

Venice is… rainy. He’s been told it’s better this way, because the channels stink of sewage when it’s too warm, but now Eddie is worried it will rain so much that all that channel sewage will flood the city if it rains too much.

The boat drops them off right in front of their hotel, and they draw a lot of eyes when they wrestle for the right to carry Eddie’s bag.

“Cut the crap, Richie! I can carry my own damn bag.”

“I’m just showing gratitude. How will I ever repay you for taking me on this trip?”

“I take checks.”

“Yeah? What else do you take checks for?”

“Fuck you!”

“If you insist. I’m not above using my body to repay my debts.”

With one strong yank, Eddie rescues his bag out of Richie’s dirty clutches and leaves him on the sidewalk to check-in.

The receptionists face lights up when he states his name. “Ah, Mr Kaspbrak, and this must be the other Mr Kaspbrak”, she says and looks behind him, where Richie has just entered.

“Uh…”

Again, Richie throws his arm around him. “It sure is.”

Eddie really wishes he would stop doing that. Not only does it remind him that he should be married, that he should be enjoying his honeymoon, but it also makes him angry how all of this is just one big joke to Richie. He’d rather be here with anyone else, but no… all his friends had to be happily coupled up and now he’s left with this disaster. He hates him.

“We’ve got the honeymoon suite for you. It’s on the third floor. Have a nice stay.”

Eddie doesn’t look at anyone as he takes the keys from her and trudges up the stairs, Richie on his heels. After the first flight of stairs, Richie starts to complain and while Eddie definitely feels the same way – Who builds a hotel without an elevator? – he grits his teeth and tries not to yell at him.

After the second flight of stairs, he can’t take it anymore, whirls around and tells Richie to shut the fuck up already.

“Wow, Eds, We’ve been married for one day and you’re already yelling at me? I don’t know how I feel about this.”

“We’re not fucking married! Stop telling people that we are! It’s not funny.”

“I’m not telling them shit, I’m just not correcting them.”

“It’s not funny”, he repeats. “I swear if you make one more joke about this, I’m going to drown you in one of these channels.”

Richie lifts his hands, a gesture of innocence. “Fine, fine, I won’t say another word.”

Eddie turns back around and clearly hears him mutter under his breath: “Wouldn’t be the first time a husband killed their spouse on the honeymoon.”

He’s really going to do it, isn’t he? Right now, he can’t think of anything more satisfying than to push Richie’s head underwater and not let go until he stops struggling. It wouldn’t solve all his problems, but it would definitely help.

“Murder is illegal in Italy. Murder is illegal in Italy. Murder is illegal in Italy.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s illegal everywhere, babycakes.”

“I’m so close to pushing you down those stairs, Richie. I’m not joking.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’d look drop dead gorgeous in orange overalls.”

Somehow they both make it to the third floor with all limbs attached, but Eddie’s mood doesn’t increase when they enter the room and are greeted with rose petals in the form of a heart on the bed. The only one in the room.

Richie nudges him with his elbow. “Bet you didn’t think that through.”

“Did you?”

“I don’t mind sharing a bed with you. You’re tiny, you don’t take up any space.”

“I’m 5’9, that’s hardly considered tiny. Just because you’re a giraffe. And you’re taking the couch!”

“What couch?”

He is right. There is no couch. This could hardly even be considered a suite. Damn Venice and its tiny hotels. This trip is starting to turn into a nightmare, not that he hasn’t already expected it to be a nightmare, but he hadn’t thought it would happen so fast.

With one big swoop of his arm, most of the rose petals fall to the ground, the rest get crushed when he falls onto the bed and buries his face in his hands. He doesn’t want to be here, and he definitely doesn’t want to be here with Richie. Although he can’t say he wants to be here with Marcus. He’s thought surprisingly little about him, but maybe it’s not that surprising considering he was either sleeping or shitfaced for the most time after the breakup.

“I want to die.”

He wishes Richie would get the hint and just leave, give him some space to be miserable, but Richie does the opposite, because he’s Richie and he has to be annoying at all times. Eddie yelps, when Richie lands on top of him, not breaking the fall at all, just letting his full weight crush Eddie.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Fuck if I know.”

Maybe it’s jetlag, maybe he’s lost his mind, but right now that’s the funniest thing Eddie has ever heard and it’s so Richie. He remembers Richie doing all sorts of stupid stuff for no other reason than cheering him up and getting him to laugh. They both shake with laughter, and Eddie is reminded of all the other times they’ve been basically plastered together, laughing about the stupidest shit, not making sense to anyone else. Fuck, he’s missed this. He’s missed Richie so much.

He doesn’t know when it happens, between gasps for air and fits of laughter, but suddenly he’s crying, and he can’t stop. He’s not even sure what he’s crying about. Marcus, the wedding, the ruined honeymoon, Richie… Everything and somehow none of it.

“Hey.” Richie’s voice is so soft again, and his hands are on Eddie’s face, wiping the tears away. All he wants to do is curl into a ball and let Richie hold him, but he can’t. He’s so very glad when Richie rolls off him. “Hey, Eddie, what’s wrong?”

A sound that’s somewhere between a sob and a laugh escapes him. “Everything. Everything is fucking wrong, Rich.”

“Not everything.”

What is that even supposed to mean. Yes, it fucking is! Not only did he get dumped by the man he thought he’d spent the rest of his life with, but now he has no damn clue what the rest of his life is going to look like? He has to give up the apartment because he can’t pay for it on his own and he doesn’t want to stay somewhere that reminds him of Marcus so much. He’ll probably be alone forever because the thought of starting to date again is even worse than that. He fucking hates dating and getting to know people.

* * *

Since it’s already late when Eddie finishes with his mental breakdown and unpacking his bag, they decide to go on a hunt for the most expensive pizza. At least the rain has stopped.

“You know, I never thought I’d ever go to Venice”, Richie says, as they walk through the tiny alleys, getting more and more lost in this city.

“I never thought I’d go to Venice with you.”

Eddie keeps track of where they are on the map. This is more what he pictured a trip with Richie would look like, him reading the map and Richie driving. A road trip. It’s not like they hadn’t been on one, but then it had been with all the losers and only that one time. It was probably best they’d never gone on a road trip just the two of them. Although this is potentially worse.

“Surprises all around, I guess.” Richie stops in front of a restaurant and reads the menu. “Stupid Euro… how am I supposed to know if 23 euros is expensive or not.”

“The exchange rate is almost the same, Rich. Would you pay 23 dollars for a pizza?”

“Bold of you to assume I would pay anything for a pizza.”

“I’m not even going to ask.”

Richie shrugs. “Your loss.” He nods towards the door. “So are we going to eat overpriced pizza, or what?”

“Depends. Did you remember your wallet?”

Too many times had they gone somewhere, supposedly on Richie’s bill only for him to say he’d forgotten his wallet. Eddie isn’t going to fall for that again.

Richie pulls it from his back pocket and waves it in front of Eddie’s nose. “Of course. I’m going to treat you real good, Spaghetti.”

He almost doesn’t want to go in now, but his stomach is growling and it’s not like Richie will stop being obnoxious if they go look for a different restaurant, so he rolls his eyes at him and lets Richie open the door for him. At least he doesn’t pull out the chair for him.

What he does do is order the most expensive wine and two of the most expensive pizzas and he does it all in the most grueling Italian accent that makes Eddie wish he had died earlier in the hotel, or he had acted on the urge to drown himself in the main channel when they crossed the Rialto bridge earlier.

When the waiter leaves, Eddie sighs. “Why do you have to be like this?”

“Aw, you love it.”

“You’re going to get us kicked out of this city, maybe even the country.”

At the idea, Richie’s eyes light up, and Eddie regrets having said anything. “You think that’s possible?”

“Haven’t you heard about that awful British family that got kicked out of New Zealand? I honestly can’t believe someone else managed to do that before you.”

When he’d read the article, Eddie had actually been half convinced Richie doing a bad British accent had to be part of the family.

“The woes of being broke”, Richie says in the exact moment the waiter comes back with the wine and shoots them a concerned look, but Richie just smiles big. “You never get to do the cool things first.”

When the waiter is gone, he leans over the table and lowers his voice: “Have you ever dined and dashed?”

“We’re not dining and dashing”, Eddie says, putting his hand in Richie’s face and pushing him away. “First you say you’ll treat me right and then I find out how cheap you are. Those jokes of yours can’t be paying you too well.”

* * *

The pizza isn’t as bad as Eddie expected, the wine is really good, better than the stuff Marcus had in their cooler at home. Eddie thinks he’ll keep that cooler when he moves and stock it only with this wine. He always thought Marcus knew his wine, it turns out Marcus knows jack shit about anything.

When they leave the restaurant, it’s late and the alleys are less crowded. Where the houses aren’t too close, they can actually see the stars and the moon in the sky. It’s a nice night, would be even greater if they knew how to get back to the hotel.

“You don’t need that”, Richie says, grabbing the map out of his hands. “It’s too dark to read anyway.”

Eddie tries to get it back, but Richie holds it out of reach. “Not if I go read it under that lamp over there.”

“I’m in no hurry to get back.” And he folds the map and puts it in his pocket. So now they are two men standing on a dimly lit bridge over murky water, with their heads tilted back to look at the stars. It’s the first time they aren’t doing anything, that they are completely alone with no purpose at all, and it drives Eddie mad. He needs to move, to do something so Richie won’t take up all his thoughts again. He is reminded of a time where he lived for moments like this, where he could spend hours just being with Richie.

Richie goes to lean over the balustrade and stare into the dark water beneath, Eddie knows he could go stand next to him, arms brushing, and Richie would say something that will make him laugh or make him want to throw him over the bridge, and he can’t think of an excuse why doesn’t do it, so he remains where he is.

“I’m sorry for disappearing.”

The words are hard to hear, but Eddie has been waiting three years to hear them, there is not a chance he’s missing them. 

“I missed you, Eds. I missed… this.”

“Then why did you?”

Richie turns around, but he doesn’t meet his eyes. “Because I’m dumb. And when I realized how dumb I was, it was three years later, and I had no fucking clue how to come back. So in a way this… your wedding… Not so bad.”

He doesn’t know what he expected. No, fuck that, he knows exactly what he expected. A fucking explanation is what, not this poor excuse.

“That’s bullshit, Richie, and you know it. I sent you an invite to the wedding and you didn’t respond. That was your fucking opening.”

Fuck Richie, and fuck the map! He’ll just find his way back by himself, how hard could it be. He shoves his fists in his jacket and starts walking. What was that saying again? All roads lead to Rome? Well, that fucking hotel better be on the way to Rome.

“Eddie!”, Richie shouts, but he doesn’t care. “Come on, you’re going to get lost!”

If getting lost means getting the hell away from him, Eddie is okay with it. Part of him is scared Richie is going to follow, so his steps are quick and determined and eventually he starts running, not caring about the weird looks he gets from other people. It’s not until he gets to the edge of the water that he stops. He wishes he had a boat, that he could get out of the city and away from the lights until he was out there on the dark sea with just the waves.

He is so mad right now and it’s only partly because Richie is a bad liar, which makes him even angrier. His fingers are curled around the ring that he doesn’t remember bringing, but here it is, and he isn’t angry because Marcus broke up with him, not as angry as he should be. Really, he’s only angry because of what he said.

_“I don’t think I can marry you, Eddie. I love you. I love you so much, but I know you don’t love me. Not the way I do. I think I’ve always known, but I didn’t want to accept it. And I know he’s not around anymore and that I shouldn’t worry, but, Eddie, you invited him. You’re still holding out for him.” _

Eddie holds the ring up to the sky and tries to fit the moon into the small circle. Marcus knows jack shit about anything. He knows nothing about wine, and he knows nothing about Eddie. He isn’t scared to admit that he loved Richie once. He was head over heels for that idiot in high school, but that’s gone now. They are friends, if they are anything at all.

He inhales the cool night air, raises his arm and flings the ring as far as he can. It’s too dark to see where it breaks the surface, but Eddie feels better already. Fuck Marcus!

* * *

In the morning, he doesn’t know how he got back to the hotel or what time it was, what he knows is that Richie stayed awake and it pleases Eddie greatly to know that he ruined his night just like Richie has ruined his.

He wants to be keep being mad at Richie, he really does, because he waited three years for an apology and that was all he got, but they are also in Venice and Richie wakes him up as if nothing ever happens and he’s wearing a brightly coloured Hawaiian shirt like he used to when they were kids and he’s so excited to show him a café he saw at the Plaza San Marco. Eddie decides to be mad later. Right now, he really wants a good Italian coffee and whatever Italians eat for breakfast.

“What are we feeling today? Boats or masks?”, Richie asks after they’re done with breakfast.

There’s a ring somewhere out there and Eddie thinks it needs at least one more day to get buried at the bottom of the sea. Besides, they’d seen plenty of mask shops yesterday and he really wants to take a look at them.

“Let’s find masks for everyone.”

“You want to buy one for all of the losers?”

“No”, Eddie says, smiling as sweetly as he can. “I want to buy one for myself and I want you to buy masks for all the others.”

“I feel like you only brought me along for my money.”

“Your money and your looks. Didn’t I make that obvious?”

Richie runs a hand through his and winks at him. “In that case, I’m okay with it.”

“Yeah, I always had a hunch you’d end up as one of those gross ninety-year-old sugar daddies.”

Today they don’t need a map. If he can find his way back in middle of the night, he can find it in bright daylight, and even if he couldn’t, Richie had already lost the map. As they walk, Richie puts an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, and he doesn’t hate it. It’s actually funny how everyone else gives them dirty looks when they take up all the space in the narrow alleys.

“You think I’m going to make it to ninety? I’m so touched, Eddie.”

“You’re right. I forgot I was going to either abandon or kill you on this trip.”

“How is that plan coming along?”

“I can’t decide between drowning you in one of the channels or pushing you off the Eiffel Tower. I guess it depends on how long I can stand to be around you. The Eiffel Tower is still three days away.”

Just mentioning Paris makes Eddie think about all the expectations he had for this trip, how he and Marcus would stay in bed all day, the romantic gondola ride, sightseeing and taking pictures together, eating all the best food… None of that has come true, but he damn well deserves all of that. Marcus’ words repeat in his mind and Eddie pushes that all away, trying not to think about what it means that he’s pissed he’s not experiencing any of these things, but not so pissed he isn’t experiencing them with Marcus. He wasn’t right. Marcus knows jack shit.

They reach a small store with beautiful carnival masks in the window and a creepy looking figure out front wearing a white long-nosed mask.

“Awesome”, Richie says, pushing Eddie to stand next to the statue. “He looks like one of those plague doctors.”

“They had different masks.”

Richie is already holding his phone in his hand. “Whatever. Give him a kiss, Eddie.”

“I don’t want to kiss him. Do you know how many people have touched him? That’s gross!”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be good. Old hypochondriac Eddie Kaspbrak kissing a plague doctor! The others will love it.”

There is no way in hell he will kiss the mask or even touch it. And he isn’t fucking a hypochondriac just because he gives a shit about hygiene and health.

“Fine”, Richie says, showing his phone into Eddie’s hand. “Then take one of me.”

Without a care in the word, Richie presses his lips to the gross mask and Eddie obediently takes his pictures. Then Richie kisses the tip of the long nose, opens his mouth, and Eddie grabs him by the shoulder and pulls him away.

“Don’t be gross!”

“Aw, Eds, you ruined the moment. He was getting all excited.”

Eddie gives him his phone back and enters the shop. “Beep beep”, he calls over his shoulder, hoping Richie can behave himself for the next thirty minutes at least.

The mask in the shop are amazing. Some cover only the eyes but most of them are full-face ones. They come in all colours, with feather or without, lots of glitter or less. One is shaped like a half moon, another like a jester’s hat. There are all kinds of animals, fishes, birds, cats, dogs, and of course there is Richie’s long-nosed friend from outside.

“Wow”, he says, just taking it all in. He wants to buy them all. He doesn’t know where he’d put them, he doesn’t even have an apartment anymore, but he knows he wants to fill his new one with these masks. Who needs furniture when he has the masks and the good wine in the cooler?

Richie picks a mask with a beak in silver and metallic green and beautiful ornaments around the eyes. “This on is for Stan the Man.”

“Stan is easy”, Eddie says, because it’s true, but Richie did really pick the best bird mask.

He turns it over in his hands and must’ve spotted the price tag, because when he looks back at Eddie, he looks a little paler. “You really want me to buy six of these?”

Eddie grabs a black and golden full-face jester’s mask and holds it in front of Richie’s face. “Yes, I do.”

He doesn’t really. These things are expensive as hell, but it really would be fun if they all had one. Eddie just doesn’t know when they would ever wear them. It would be cruel to force Richie to pay for them.

They try on a few more masks. Richie looks especially good in a black and purple lace mask that only covers his eyes. It really brings out the blue of his eyes, and without the glasses to distract him, Eddie finds Richie has a pretty mouth. A very kissable mouth.

“Too bad you can’t see shit without your glasses”, he says, holding them up. “No masks for you.”

“I could use contacts.”

Eddie snorts. “I still remember the one and only time you tried out contacts, and no, you really can’t.”

“I can if you help me put them in.”

“And get them out. No thank you.”

He finds a mask he particularly likes. It’s huge, covers the whole face and has a hat attached to it, in red, white and gold and no mouth. He loves it until he sees the price, then he puts it back. As cool as it is, he doesn’t need to spend a few hundred bucks on a mask. In the end they only get one. The black and purple one, Richie wore earlier.

“Why didn’t you buy one?”, Eddie asks as they leave the store.

“You’re right about the glasses thing. Why did you choose that one? Didn’t you like the one with the hat?”

Eddie looks down at the bag. He chose Richie’s mask. The one that followed the lines of his nose perfectly, that nestled against his brow and cheek bone perfectly. Although it can’t be, Eddie feels like the inside is still warm from Richie’s skin. And he remembers what it did to Richie’s face.

“That one was too expensive”, he says.

* * *

After a long day of walking the streets of Venice, Eddie remembers that he forgot to be mad at Richie. They’d eaten another pizza, this time reasonably prized, and got the best ice cream either of them had ever had. They’d stood a one of the smaller channels and watched dozens of gondolas pass them, and Eddie hadn’t thought about wanting to be in one once because Richie wouldn’t stop making up ludicrous background stories for the people in them.

Exhausted, Eddie falls onto the bed and spreads out like a starfish. Richie had excused himself, said he’d forgotten something. Total bullshit, Eddie knows, because Richie doesn’t have anything to forget in the first place. He doesn’t mind though. It’s nice to have a few moments to himself.

Today felt like before, like he and Richie had never drifted apart. If only he knew why. He can ask Richie again, but he doesn’t think he’ll get an honest answer out of him, but as long as he doesn’t, Eddie can’t really enjoy this new friendship. What if Richie disappears again? This time he won’t have Marcus there to distract him and take care of him while he is hurting.

“Miss me?”

He hadn’t heard the door open, but Richie is standing next to the bed, grinning from ear to ear as if he just pulled of the best prank ever. That grin is bad news.

“Close your eyes!”

Eddie sits up and catches a glimpse of something Richie is hiding behind his back, but he moves it out of sight before Eddie can see what it is. “Why?”

“Just do it!”

“If you put a live tarantula on me, I will cut you into tiny pieces and feed you to the fish.”

Richie pouts. “Why do you immediately think it’s a bad thing?”

“Because I know you.”

“Just close your eyes!”

“Fine, but I’m warning you that…” The rest of his sentence is muffled by Richie putting his hand over his mouth, his big, warm, probably dirty hand. Eddie licks it anyway.

“Gross, Eds.” He wipes his hand on his jeans, then looks at him impatiently until Eddie finally closes his eyes.

He hears paper rustling and then something big lands in his lap, but it’s not moving so it’s probably not a huge spider. When he opens his eyes, he’s holding the mask. The big red one with the hat, the one he wanted, the one that cost way too much.

“Richie… You… I can’t…”

“Sure, you can. I know you wanted this one and since this trip is all about cheering you up, you should have it.”

Eddie looks at the mask in awe. Some of the glitter is already on his clothes and will probably get everywhere in his bag, but he loves it so much. “It’s too much, Rich. You have to bring it back.”

“Yeah right.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. That’s yours. No take backs.”

This is one of the things, he can’t argue with Richie about, and to be honest, he doesn’t want to. Yes, the gift is way too expensive, but he loves the mask, loves it even more now that Richie went all the way back there to get it for him.

Carefully, he puts it down and hugs Richie. “Thank you”, he mumbles into his shoulder. “You shouldn’t have but thank you.”

“You’re literally taking me on a trip to Europe, Eddie. It’s nothing.”

He’s so wrong, but Eddie doesn’t tell him. He just wants to hold on for a little longer. When was the last time they hugged? He can’t remember, and it reminds him of that stupid thing he read somewhere ‘Some day your mother set you down and never picked you up again’ but thinking about it in relation to Richie hurts. What if he had never shown up at his door? Some day they had let go of each other and never hugged again. What if this is that day?

“Eds?”

“Hm?”

“This is an awful long hug, and I’m not complaining at all, but are you okay?”

Quickly he lets go, refuses to believe this is the last time and turns around to look at his mask a bit more. “Yeah. I’m good. Thanks again, Rich.”

“Anything for you.” If his words sound more sincere than sarcastic it’s because Eddie isn’t thinking right, because he’s still thinking about the last time they hugged.

* * *

On their last day in Venice, Eddie is ready to go boating. They rent a motorboat and are told where they are allowed to drive it and then they are off. As much as Eddie has enjoyed the city, he’s happy to get away from it for a while. The wind is blowing in his face and through his hair, tugging at his jacket and next to him Richie is laughing as the boat jumps over the waves. It’s not a gondola ride, but it’s better.

They take turns driving the boat until they get bored and drop the anchor in front of the coast of the island with the monastery and lie down in the back of the boat, watching the clouds.

“You know, I thought Venice was warmer. Why would a country as cold as this need all this gelato?”

“Maybe if you come back when it’s actually summer that will make more sense to you”, Eddie says.

“How dare it not be summer when I come here”, Richie says. Why is he suddenly close? Eddie is pretty sure their arms weren’t touching a moment ago. “The one time I get to go to Europe for free and it’s rainy and cold.”

“It’s not rainy. And not that cold.”

“Let me be dramatic for a moment.”

“A moment? When the fuck are you not being dramatic?”

“When I’m fucking your mom. She likes to be the one who’s screaming.”

It’s good they are as close as they are, it gives Eddie the perfect angle to jam his elbow into Richie’s ribs. It only makes Richie laugh more. He can’t believe he still makes mom jokes. Richie really hasn’t changed at all.

“You know, you still haven’t told me why you stopped talking to me.”

It’s unfair to ask while they are on a boat and there’s nowhere to go, but that’s exactly why he has waited until now to ask again. This time he isn’t letting him get away with a lie. He’s so sick of Richie lying to him.

“I told you. I was dumb.”

“That’s not an answer.” He sits up to better look at Richie, but he won’t meet his eye. “Just tell me, Richie. I won’t be mad.”

Richie sits up slowly, wrapping his arms around his knees. “You forgive me?”

“Yes.” That already happened long ago. Eddie hates it, but he can never stay mad at Richie, he never could. He’d forgiven him the moment he’d allowed him to come on this trip, too happy to have his best friend back. His Richie. “But I need to know.”

“Why?”

“Why? Because my best friend started avoiding me for no reason and I never knew why. I deserve to know why.”

For a moment Richie just looks at him and the moment drags out so long, Eddie really wants to hit him. He doesn’t know if he can continue this trip if Richie doesn’t tell him. How can he be in Paris of all places and just pretend that nothing ever happened between them?

“Do you remember when it started?”, Richie asks. He turns his head and looks at something on the horizon. Fine, Eddie doesn’t want to look at him either.

“I don’t know. You didn’t like Marcus and we fought and then you became distant.”

“I didn’t like Marcus”, Richie repeats. “I hated that guy. I didn’t at first, you know, when I thought you were just going out a few times. Didn’t think it was serious.”

It hadn’t been. Eddie wasn’t sure about Marcus at all at first, that was the whole point of introducing him to his friends, so they could have an opinion. Richie most of all. It was only when Richie had become childish, criticizing every little thing about Marcus that Eddie got defensive.

“You probably don’t remember our last fight, but I do. You know what you said?”

Eddie shakes his head. He rarely remembers what he says in fights, the words coming out of his mouth too quickly to be processed.

“You asked me why I couldn’t be happy for you, why I had to ruin your relationship with the man you loved. You actually said that. You loved him. Well, and I knew I couldn’t watch that. I couldn’t see you in love with someone else and not be fucking bitter about it. I left so you could be happy.”

Richie’s words repeat in his head over and over until they lose all meaning, and then Marcus’ last words join them, and Eddie’s head starts spinning. He hadn’t been sure about Marcus until Richie had started to hate him and then he’d decided Marcus was the one out of spite. He wondered back then if Richie was jealous or just being an asshole, but Richie never said anything, never showed any signs that he was interested in dating Eddie instead, and he had looked. He had hoped for them so badly.

“You know I chose to be with Marcus because he made me feel loved”, Eddie says, now staring at the same point on the water as Richie. “And because you were so convinced he was bad for me. I wanted to prove you wrong.”

Richie snorts. “That’s the guy you were going to marry, Eddie. Please tell me you weren’t prepared to be with him for the rest of your life to spite me.” 

He’d never thought about it like that before. Marcus had told him he loved him so many times, it had only been natural to say it back and then he’d said it so many times that it had become true. Somewhat. Marrying Marcus would not have been a bad life. He would’ve been happy, probably. Just not as happy as he could be, but who even got 100% happiness? What was so wrong about taking what you got and not be greedy?

“You want to know why he broke up with me?”

“Because he’s an asshole?”

“No.” Eddie inhales, closes his eyes and shakes his head. “No, he wasn’t an asshole. I was.” When he gets back, he should apologize to him. Maybe he’ll let him have the wine cooler, at least he can have the shitty wine in it. “He broke up with me because he knew I didn’t love him. Not truly.”

He opens his eyes and faces Richie. He can’t believe that he’s actually going to say it, not when he’s done his best to deny it for so long. Yes, he was in love with Richie when they were both teenagers, but he never stopped. Did Richie? Is it too late now? “He knew I was waiting for you.”

Maybe Marcus knows about somethings.

Richie’s face is wonderfully depressing right now. He might actually cry and if he does, Eddie knows he will too. He reaches out and runs his thumb over his bottom lip, those kissable lips. Richie leans into the touch, his eyes the colour of the sky today and so vulnerable. He’s never seen him like that before. “Eds…”

Whatever he wants to say, he can’t put it into words, but Eddie understands anyway. He nods, and Richie surges forward, his hands cupping Eddie’s face, lips smashing together. He was right, very kissable lips. Eddie’s hands are everywhere, in Richie’s hair, on his face, caressing his back, his neck, under his shirt. He’s waited for way too long to touch Richie like this and now he can’t get enough. He’ll never get enough.

Richie looks thoroughly disheveled when they finally part and Eddie is sure, he doesn’t look much better, but it’s a good look on him. Maybe even his favourite Richie look.

“You’re telling me if I had been nicer to your stupid pretend boyfriend, we could’ve been making out three years ago?”

Eddie makes to hit him over the head, but Richie catches his hand and laces their fingers together instead.

“He wasn’t pretend! And no. You could’ve just told me how you felt.”

“Oh you mean like you did?”

“At least I sent you signals.”

“You didn’t send me shit!”

“I did!

“Did not!”

“Just because you’re too thick to read them, doesn’t mean I didn’t.”

“Well, if you send out unreadable signals it’s not my fault.”

Eddie positions himself in Richie’s lab and wraps his arms around his neck. “I could’ve done this, and you still would’ve thought I was messing around. The only signal you would understand is this.” And then they are kissing again, a little slower than before because they have time. They are in one of the love capitals of the world and they have time.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing this all day and it's late but I'm too excited to post it, so have the unedited version.
> 
> come find me on tumblr @itchierichie


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